The Sapphire Swan
by Pir8grl
Summary: Fairy Tale AU Swan Lake with a twist, mostly because I think Siegfried is a bit of a jerk, and I wanted a happy ending.


The village of Gallifrey was a small hamlet, deep in the mountains, nestled at the base of Gallifrey castle. Today, the cobblestone streets thronged with villagers in their best clothing, and garlands of flowers bedecked the timbered buildings. The church bells rang out merrily, and a fiddler and drummer presided over a makeshift dance in the village square.

The reason for all this merriment was the birthday of Prince Wilfred. The prince had always been known as a clever and studious lad, but he'd proven his mettle in battle, successfully rallying Gallifrey's troops, after his father fell. Today, the tall young man with the serious blue eyes moved among his people, inquiring after men he knew had been wounded in battle, and quietly distributing alms to widows. The people nodded and smiled, thinking what a good king he would make.

A brazen fanfare announced the arrival of the Queen Mother, and Prince Wilfred sighed and straightened his doublet, knowing what was coming next. He strode up to the royal coach and bowed deeply, kissing his mother's hand.

"My son," she said warmly.

"Mother."

Still holding her son's hand, the Queen Mother regally surveyed the crowd of colorful peasants, who quieted under her gaze. "Good people," she began, in a ringing voice, "today we celebrate the coming of age of our beloved son, Prince Wilfred. His Highness has been renowned for his wisdom and scholarship since he was a boy. He courage in battle was lately proven by his defense of our beautiful homeland.

"Today, in accordance with ancient Gallifreyan tradition, we do formally gift our son with TARDIS, the Golden Crossbow of the King. Prince Wilfred has already proven his worthiness to wield it, having taken up the weapon to defend his troops, following the death of his beloved father, the king.

"Now, there is but one task remaining before our son can be crowned king. He must choose a bride." Here, the Queen Mother paused, and nodded toward the string of gilded coaches standing behind her own conveyance.

Prince Wilfred kept his features carefully schooled, but inwardly, he was wincing, as twelve footmen stepped forward in carefully choreographed movements - six to open the coach doors, and six to assist their occupants.

A rustle of excitement spread through the crowd as six princesses descended from the coaches in a cloud of satin and lace. Little girls clapped for joy, and older girls sighed with envy at the sight of the elaborate gowns and coiffures. Villagers watching from the picturesque carved balconies tossed down handfuls of wildflowers and fragrant herbs. Prince Wilfred noticed one of the fine ladies fastidiously twitching her skirts away from the floral offerings and tried his best not to scowl.

The Queen Mother raised her hand for silence. "There will be a grand ball at the castle tomorrow night, in order that the Prince might choose his bride. Now, the ladies and I shall retire, in order to make our preparations for the ball. In order that you might all partake of the pleasures of the day, we have instructed that the royal kitchens distribute cakes and ale. I wish you all the joy of this most glorious day."

The major domo rapped the butt of his staff on the cobbled street. "God save the Queen Mother!" he bellowed.

The crowd bowed and returned the ritual reply. Wilfred bowed and kissed his mother's hand again. She touched his cheek fondly. "Why don't you take that out and try it?" she suggested, gesturing to the crossbow in his hands. "Bring down a swan or pheasant for your dear mama's table?"

"As you wish, Mother."

"Oh, do try and smile, dear. I only want what's best for you."

"Of course, Mother."

She leaned up and kissed his cheek fondly. "I know we all thought you'd have more time, but your father is gone. Gallifrey must have a strong king, and strong allies _**now**_. Go along with your friends and get some fresh air."

Wilfred smiled tightly until his mother was safely tucked back in her carriage. He wasn't sure which sickened him more - the thought of being put up for auction, as it were, this evening, or the idea of using a weapon to kill something just for sport.

* * *

After the Queen Mother's departure, a crowd of young noblemen surrounded Wilfred, all eager to see the legendary TARDIS, and head off into the woods for a bit of hunting. His Man at Arms, Jack, eyed him shrewdly, then turned his attention to the noisy group of half drunk nobles.

"Why don't you lot go and see if you can find anything worthy of the Prince's attention?" he suggested crisply. The pack of fools departed, making enough racket to scare off any game in the vicinity.

"All right, sir?" Jack asked, turning back to his prince.

"Never did see the point of hunting for amusement, and I've seen enough killing to last all my days."

"I know that, sir, but there's a few households in the village that lost their provider to the war, and would be grateful for some fresh meat."

Wilfred clapped his friend on the shoulder. "You're a good man, Jack."

"Tell you what, sir, why don't I try and get that bunch to catch something useful, like a brace of ducks for the villagers, and you take a walk? Clear your head, maybe?"

"Anything to take my mind off my impending doom."

"That's the spirit, sir."

* * *

Wilfred wandered in the direction of the lake. He'd seen a flight of swans headed this way. Although they were considered a delicacy, he could never bring himself to kill one, not unless it was already wounded and needed to have an end to its suffering. He was grateful to Jack for leading that pack of fools off in the other direction. The swans were too beautiful to destroy, just for the sake of bagging a trophy.

Wilfred watched, half hidden behind a tree, as the majestic birds soared and dipped and circled to banks of the lake. He blinked, then, wondering if the late afternoon light were deceiving his eyes. One of those swans was blue. Pale, shimmering blue. No. It couldn't be. Swans were white - everyone knew that.

He blinked again, and the blue swan was gone. In her place was a startlingly beautiful woman. A gown of pale blue silk clung to her exquisitely curved figure. A woven band of blue silk, pearls, and sapphires held her hair loosely back from her face, to cascade down her back in golden curls and waves. The jeweled band was her only adornment, yet she was more elegant in her simplicity than those stiffly overdressed visitors that awaited him back at the castle.

His curiosity overwhelming him, Wilfred slipped from the tree line, step by silent step, using skills he'd learned in the war. As he watched, the mysterious lady turned to the other swans clustered on the bank of the lake. Some of them stood slowly, revealing themselves to be maidens dressed in white silk gowns, similar to their mistress. Others remained huddled masses of delicate feathers. Tears fell from the lady's eyes as she gently stroked their heads.

Careful as he tried to be, eventually Wilfred stepped on a twig that cracked like a shot under his weight. The maidens startled and ran for the trees, all except for the lovely lady in blue. Eyes wide with fear, she nonetheless stepped towards him, holding out her arms as if to shield her comrades.

"Please don't be frightened," Wilfred said quietly. "I won't hurt you."

The lady stared at the crossbow in his hands.

"Right. Sorry," Wilfred muttered, finally catching on. He stooped ever so slowly, and placed TARDIS on the ground, then stood just as carefully, extending his now empty hands. "Better?"

The lady nodded, biting her lip.

"I'm Wilfred. Well, Prince Wilfred, actually, of Gallifrey Castle. How did you come to be out here in the woods? You're obviously a lady of quality. Where is your home? I'd like to help you, if I can."

"I'm Rose. Princess Rose, of…well, I don't think my home actually exists anymore. You see, I refused the attentions of a wizard named Davros, so he placed me and my attendants under a spell. We are doomed to remain swans by day, until the spell is broken. It's been so long, though. Almost everyday, one of my ladies just …loses hope…gives up…and never changes back. One day, I'll be the only one left."

The pain in her golden brown eyes nearly broke Wilfred's heart. "Please, tell me how to help you. How can the spell be broken?"

"By a vow of true love and fidelity."

Now it was Wilfred's turn to stare. How could anyone resist making such a vow? Rose was beyond lovely, and so courageous, to stand unarmed and try to protect her friends. He stepped closer, and reached out his hand. Rose smiled tremulously and set her hand in his. They stood there for a timeless span, lost in each other's eyes, and marveling at the way their hands intertwined.

Both started at the sound of voices and footsteps crashing through the underbrush.

"Run," Wilfred said tersely. Then, unable to resist, he stooped down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Hide. I'll get rid of them."

Wilfred strode forward to meet the intruders. The laughing group of noblemen had in fact managed to bag some game, despite their nonsense. "Well done. Jack, assist these fine gentlemen with distributing their catch to the needy folk of the village, won't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"But we saw -" one of the young fops began.

"I expect you're seeing quite a lot of things, right about now," Wilfred noted.

"Come along, gentlemen, the prince has given his instructions," Jack announced.

Wilfred caught his friend's arm. "Jack, I want it posted that there is to be no hunting of swans on or about this lake."

"As you wish, sir," Jack replied, even though his eyes were alight with curiosity.

Wilfred waited until the voices and footsteps faded before turning back to seek Rose. She stepped cautiously from the trees to meet him.

"I heard you give that order, not to hunt us. Thank you," she said softly.

"I don't hold with killing things needlessly, especially not things that exist just to bring beauty into this world." He held out his hand, and Rose willingly took it, lacing their fingers together. Wilfred was amazed, again, by how perfectly their hands fit together, as if they were pieces of the same puzzle. "Will you walk with me?"

"Yes," Rose replied.

They spent the night walking on the shores of the lake. Rose told Wilfred of the castle where she'd grown up, and how she was named for the fragrant flowers that her parents had planted together in celebration of their marriage, and how she'd dreamed of meeting someone wonderful, who would love and cherish her, as her parents cherished one another. And how that dream had been shattered. In turn, Wilfred told her of his studies, and how they'd been interrupted by the war, and the horror of so much death and destruction.

Finally, he turned to Rose, and took her other hand. "Rose, in order to be crowned king, I must choose a wife, and I…I think you and I would do well together. I know it sounds mad, after just one night of talk, but I -"

His words were lost, as Rose pressed up on her toes to kiss his lips gently.

"Fantastic," Wilfred whispered, with a broad, genuine grin. He sank down on one knee, still holding tight to her hands. "Princess Rose, will you -"

Rose dropped his hands, and backed away in horror, as the silvered moonlight faded to the gold of sunrise and the change began.

"Tonight, Rose!" Wilfred cried frantically. "Come to the castle tonight, for the ball!"

She opened her mouth to reply, but there were no words as the form of the woman in blue blurred into an elegant swan.

Wilfred watched helplessly as she soared away into the dawn sky. He never noticed the dark figure that watched from the shadows.

* * *

The dark figure cackled madly to himself, hidden in the darkness of a stand of rotten old trees. The foolish girl was still hoping for a prince to save her. She still clung to her absurd belief in true love, after all this time. This big-eared oaf would go the way of all the others. In the end, she would see that the only real thing in the world was power - and no one was more powerful than Davros.

* * *

"Where were you last night?" Jack inquired, as he once again straightened the collar that the prince's fidgeting had set askew.

"None of your business, Jack."

The Man at Arms held up a hand in a placating gesture. "You shouldn't be out at night without a guard."

The prince sighed. "Of course…you're just trying to do your job. I know that, but I do need a bit of privacy occasionally."

"I can be discreet, sir, but I can't protect you if I don't know where you are."

"Not to worry, Jack. After tonight…" He sighed, looking around the ballroom, and not seeing the longed-for golden haired princess. He almost wondered if the previous night wasn't some sort of hallucination as the hours passed, and Rose failed to appear. He danced perfunctorily with the six princesses, and clapped politely at the entertainments, but his gaze kept straying to the grand entryway.

The Major Domo rapped the butt of his staff on the polished marble floor, announcing yet another guest. Wilfred thought about how his first royal decree would be a ban on that infernal noise, as he raised his eyes disinterestedly to the stairs. He never heard the names being announced, as his eyes registered the fact that the latest arrival was _**her.**_

She was ravishing, in a gown of sleek, midnight blue satin, embroidered heavily with crystals that winked and caught the light. Her hair was pulled back sharply from her face, in golden braids that twisted around her head, held in place by crystal pins.

For a brief moment, the image seemed to waver before him, and Wilfred found himself thinking how very lovely she'd looked the night before, all soft curves and clinging silk, but then his vision cleared. This was a formal occasion, after all, and Rose was a princess. She was merely dressing the part.

He stepped forward and bowed, kissing her hand. "My lady, you grace us with your presence. Might I have the honor of this dance?"

"Wilfred!" the Queen Mother interrupted, smiling fondly, "Aren't you going to introduce us to your charming companion?"

The gentleman who'd accompanied the princess murmured something quietly to the Queen Mother - she never could recall what his words were, except that they set her at ease immediately, and she continued to make her way around the ballroom.

Wilfred continued to whirl about the ballroom, thoroughly entranced by the dazzling creature in his arms. A niggling voice in the back of his head thought that somehow, she'd feel softer in his embrace, and he cursed their formal gloves, longing to feel her palm against his own again. And it did strike him as slightly odd, that after their weighty talk of the previous night, all of her bright chatter should concern fashions and jewels, but every time those thoughts threatened to erupt into words, she'd smile at him, and nothing seemed as important as keeping her happy for the rest of their days. After all, she'd been the victim of a horrid curse, _**of course**_ he would shower her with furs, and brocades, and jewels. Anything for that smile.

Jack watched uneasily as the prince danced with the unknown princess. He'd fought in a war with this man, and considered him a friend, and a comrade, despite their differences in rank. It wasn't like the man he knew to be so enthralled by a pretty face.

Movement by one of the tall windows caught his sharp eyes. Through the leaded glass, he saw a woman beating her hands upon the glass, trying to get in. She had flowing golden hair, and was dressed in soft blue silk. The expression on her face was one of pure heartbreak.

Jack blinked, and the vision was gone.

* * *

Rose stumbled through the forest, blinded by her tears. She sobbed not only for her own fate, but for the people of Gallifrey. Through Wilfred's words, and her own observations, flying over the kingdom, she'd come to love this land, and these people. She shuddered for their fate should they fall under Davros's evil sway.

Unseeing, and gasping for air, Rose's slipper caught in something on the ground and she fell full length to the forest floor. She buried her face in her arms and wept, until a golden glow began to permeate her tightly shut eyelids. Blinking cautiously, she rolled over, and realized what she'd tripped over. It was the crossbow that Wilfred had discarded yesterday, trying to assuage her fears. But not just any crossbow - this was the fabled TARDIS of Gallifrey, the legendary Golden Crossbow of the King. Even so far away and long ago, in her own homeland, Rose had heard the tales of the weapon that was destined to forever protect the kingdom. But only in the right hands - according to the stories, the hands of the king.

And yet, here it was - glowing - and was that…singing? To her. Swallowing hard, Rose reached out to touch the crossbow. It felt warm beneath her fingers. She sat up, and dragged it into her lap, expecting the weapon to be much too heavy. To her surprise, it was light enough for her to hold.

"Madame?" It was Flora, Rose's favorite lady in waiting. "What will you do with that?"

Rose looked up with a very determined glint in her eyes. "I'm going to save us, Flora. I'm going to save all of us from this horrible curse, and just to finish up, I'm going to save Prince Wilfred, and the people of Gallifrey as well."

Crossbow in hand, Rose scrambled to her feet and made her way back to the castle as quickly as possible.

* * *

The princess ran her hand appreciatively over the muscles of Wilfred's arm. "So strong," she murmured huskily. "You'll always keep me safe, won't you, my prince?"

"Of course, my love," he replied, even though once again, it struck him that something in her words and her touch was a bit…off…bolder, somehow than she'd been last night. He blinked, and the sensation passed, and he found himself staring into Rose's brightly smiling face. "Shall we go and speak with our parents?"

She nodded, and he led the way to the dais.

* * *

Rose peered through the window, her heart sinking as she saw Wilfred leading a blonde woman towards the dais where the Queen Mother waited, chatting with a nobleman. Something about him sent chills down Rose's spine, and she knew somehow that she was looking at Davros. She also knew that they were nearly out of time. If Wilfred were to swear his devotion to that other woman, Rose's fate would be sealed.

Rose didn't bother rattling the window latch this time - she knew that the enchantment binding it was far too strong. There was only one thing that had a chance of defeating such evil magic. She raised the crossbow, trusting somehow that she was doing it correctly, and aimed for Davros's black heart. Trusting in her own strength, and her love for the prince, Rose loosed the bolt.

* * *

Chaos erupted inside the ballroom as the window shattered inward. Horrified, the Queen Mother sprang back from the man she'd been chatting so amiably with, as he shrieked once, a horrible sound, then fell to the floor, clutching at a crossbow bolt protruding from his chest. Clouds of foul smelling black and green smoke billowed from the wound, surrounding the body, then vanishing to leave only a greasy black stain upon the marble floor.

The Queen Mother sank back onto her divan, clutching at her chest in fright.

Wilfred cautiously raised his head from the floor, where he'd pushed Rose, shielding her with his own body. "Rose, are you all right?" He pulled back in shock as an unknown blonde woman raised her face. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What have you done with Rose?"

"I'm here, Wilfred," a sweet voice called. Rose gathered her skirts and climbed carefully through the shattered window frame.

After a frozen moment, the prince sprang forward to assist her. "I don't understand," he began, but then Rose's fingers were pressed against his lips, as soft as he remembered, and he couldn't help but kiss them. And then she was in his arms, and he was determined to never let her go.

"Wilfred, it's nearly dawn," Rose murmured.

"Does it still matter, now that he's dead?"

"Do you really want to risk it?"

"No. Of course not." He drew Rose's arm through his own, and led her to the dais. He bowed, and she curtsied to the Queen Mother. "Mother, this is the Princess Rose, my one true love. May we have your blessing?"

"I - well - of course, my dear boy, but will someone please explain to me what has happened here?"

Jack raised the unknown woman to her feet with a firm grasp on her arm. "I believe the prince asked you a question."

"My name is Reinette. I am - was - Davros's daughter. I didn't mean any harm, truly. I just…I thought that maybe I might finally be free of him…" She hung her head, loose strands of blonde hair obscuring her face.

Wilfred noticed that her stylish gown had reverted to rags and cobwebs. His expression hardened. How dare this woman pretend to be his Rose? Had she any conception of the damage she'd nearly caused?

Rose calmed him with a gentle touch to his arm. "Mercy, my love. Please. I think perhaps she was as much Davros's victim as me and my ladies."

Reinette pulled her arm from Jack's grasp to sink to her knees. "And it please you, my lord, I have some magic of my own. It may be that I can set right some of my father's damage."

"Very well," Wilfred decided. "Jack, please find suitable accommodations for the Keeper of the Queen's Swans, would you?"

Jack nodded, and raised Reinette to her feet rather more gently this time.

The Queen Mother smiled and reached out a hand for Rose, pulling her down to sit beside her on the divan. "Tell me, my dear, how is it you came to have my son's crossbow? That is a royal weapon. Legend has it that only the rightful king of Gallifrey may wield it."

"Actually, Madame, if I may, in the ancient language, the legend speaks of the 'rightful _**defender**_ of Gallifrey.'"

"As learned as you are lovely. You have chosen well, my son."

* * *

History thought so, as well. The time of King Wilfred and Queen Rose was known as a time of peace and plenty, and their story was told, long after the castle had crumbled to dust, leaving only a tangled forest of roses in its wake.


End file.
